


How Wonderful Life Is

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-02 13:45:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20276875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: This fic was written for @becaamm’s Valentine Challenge with the prompt “What if I told you I love you?” and “Your Song – Elton John.”





	How Wonderful Life Is

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is in bold and the lyrics of the song are in italics.

You’d met the Winchesters and Jack a couple of weeks ago when they just so happened to be hunting the same nest of vampires that you were. Getting the chance to work with the boys has been amazing and you love being part of a team, especially after having hunted on your own for so long. Now that the hunt is over and you’ve had plenty of time to rest up, however, you feel that it’s time to go your own way.

“Do you really have to leave?” Jack asks. He sits at the edge of the bed you’d been using while staying at the bunker, watching as you pack your bags with clothes and your hunting gear. The nephilim had practically become glued to your side in the short time you’d known him, asking all sorts of questions about everything from the personal to the completely random. That didn’t change even as you were preparing to go off on your own again.

“I wasn’t asked to stay,” you shrug in answer.

“You weren’t asked to leave either,” Jack points out.

“I guess,” you sigh, “But I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”

While this is true, you fail to mention the distraction that a certain Winchester has become for you. Dean has been on your mind since the moment you met him, even when you should have been concentrating on things like monsters and hunting. You know that being around him any longer will only make things worse. You’re already falling for him and the more time you spend with him, the deeper you fall. To make matters worse, from what you can tell, Dean has little to no interest in you. Sure, he flirts with you, but he flirts with practically everyone he comes into contact with. Loving Dean Winchester would be like driving down a dead end road, and you refuse to let yourself do it.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Jack informs you, “Sam and I both like having you around; and Dean, well …”

“I’m sure Dean can’t wait to get rid of me,” you comment as you zip your bags closed.

“That isn’t true. I think you leaving will upset him even more than Sam or me,” Jack tells you.

“Yeah right,” you laugh.

“No, I’m serious,” Jack insists.

“What?” you question, “Did he say something to you?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Jack admits, “But he didn’t have to. I just … I’ve seen enough chick flicks now to recognize the way Dean looks at you, especially when he thinks that no one is watching. You look at him the same way, but it’s weird because neither of you seem to notice the other. It’s just like in the movies. You know that two people are supposed to be together, but neither of them realize it. Why is that?”

“How exactly do I look at him?” you question, trying to bring the conversation back to the point.

“Like you love him,” Jack replies.

“You think I like Dean?” you scoff.

“No,” Jack answers without missing a beat, “I think you like Sam and me, but I think you love Dean. He loves you too.”

“If that’s true, why hasn’t he said anything?” you question as you shoulder your bags.

“Why haven’t you?” Jack asks in return.

“Because it’s only been a few weeks since I met him, I hardly know him, and I don’t love him,” you answer.

“If you say so,” Jack sighs, “But I don’t think you’re telling the truth.” He hops off the bed and follows you as you make your way to the kitchen.

“You’re leaving already?” Sam asks when he notices you. Dean sits at the table across from Sam, drinking his coffee.

“I figured I should get an early start,” you answer.

“You could stay for breakfast,” Dean suggests, “I made plenty, and there’s still coffee if you want a cup.”

“Thanks, but I should get going,” you say.

“You know you don’t have to leave, right?” Dean tells you.

“Yeah, we’ve got plenty of empty rooms if you want one,” Sam adds.

“Thanks guys, but…” you begin, your eyes flicking to Dean for half a second before flicking back to Sam, “I’m just not used to staying in one place for this long.”

“You’re sure you can’t stick around a little while longer?” Sam asks.

“I, um, no, I really should head out,” you answer.

“You’ll come back and visit every once in a while, right?” Jack asks.

“Of course,” you answer, “As long as Sam and Dean are okay with that.”

“You’re always welcome here, Y/N,” Sam tells you, “And if you ever need our help we’re only a phone call away.”

“You guys can always call me too, for anything,” you reply.

Sam gives you a sad smile before closing the distance between you and pulling you in for a hug. You hug him back before hugging Jack. When Jack lets you go, you turn to Dean, hesitating so that he can make the first move.

“Here, let me help you with your bags,” Dean says. He sets down his coffee mug and stands from his seat. You let Dean take one of your bags and you walk beside him toward the garage. Dean keeps his eyes forward as he walks. His expression is hard to read, but the way his thumb taps against the handle of your bag hints at his anxiety.

“Dean,” you begin at the same time he says your name. You both let your words trail off awkwardly, not sure what to say. If what Jack had said was true, Dean had feelings for you, but you aren’t sure how to bring the subject up; besides if Jack was wrong, you’d only wind up embarrassing yourself. Finally, you reach your car and open the trunk. Dean helps you put the bags inside before closing the trunk and leaning against your car.

“Are you really leaving just because you aren’t used to being in one place for so long, or is it something else?” Dean questions, “If you’re in trouble, tell me. Maybe we could help; or if it’s something that Sam, Jack, or I did, then I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. You guys have been so nice to me, and I love being here,” you begin.

“Then don’t go,” Dean interrupts, a hint of pleading in his voice.

“What do I get if I stay?” you ask jokingly.

“You can have any room you want,” Dean offers, “Plus you’d have the protection of the bunker and access to all of the lore and resources we have; and you’d get to spend more time with Jack. I think the kid’ll be crushed if you go.” His answer isn’t the one you want.

“Jack will be fine,” you tell him, “I’m really just used to being on my own… I have to go, Dean.” Dean seems hesitant, but he nods in acceptance.

“See you around then?” he asks as he holds out his arms.

“See you around,” you confirm, stepping into his embrace and holding him tight.

“Y/N, I -” his words trail off.

“Yeah?” you ask, prompting him to continue.

“Never mind, it’s nothing,” Dean says as he shoves his hands into his pockets, “Drive safe; and don’t forget what Sam said. If you ever need anything, and I mean anything, you call us, okay?”

“I will,” you promise, “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Bye, Sweetheart,” Dean replies.

He hugs you one last time before you get in your car and drive away. You’re not even sure where you’re headed, but you continue to drive anyway. Every mile you put between you and the bunker breaks your heart just a little more. Why didn’t you just say something? Why didn’t he?

You’ve been driving for hours and finally, you begin to feel hungry. When you find a diner, you pull into the parking lot and head inside to grab a bite to eat. As you sit alone at your booth, eating your meal, the only thing on your mind is Dean. You sigh as a song begins to play over the speakers. The lyrics only serve as a reminder of Dean.

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside  
I’m not one of those who can easily hide  
I don’t have much money, but boy if I did  
I’d buy a big house where we both could live

The waitress comes by with the check as you finish your dessert. Rummaging around in your pockets, you begin to search for the money in order to pay. When you reach into your jacket pocket you find more than just cash.

If I was a sculptor, but, but then again, no  
Or a woman who makes potions on a traveling show  
I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do  
My gift is my song, and this one’s for you

You forget all about paying your bill as you turn your attention to the note you’d found in your pocket. The wrinkled, lined paper is folded up into a small square. Your name is written out across one side in Dean’s handwriting. He must have slipped the note into your pocket when he hugged you.

And you can tell everybody this is your song  
It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done  
I hope you don’t mind  
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words  
How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world

You unfold the paper and flatten it out. “Dear, Y/N,” the note begins, “If you’re reading this, I guess it means that you’ve left the bunker and I was too much of a coward to tell you what I’ve been wanting to say for days now.”

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss  
Well, a few of the verses, well, they’ve got me quite cross  
But the sun’s been quite kind while I wrote this song  
It’s for people like you that keep it turned on

“I’m not always good at expressing my feelings and I’ve been trying for days to figure out how to say what I’m about to tell you. I know Sam’s told you how I feel about chick flick moments, so I thought that maybe writing my thoughts down would make it easier. I realize now that I’m a complete idiot and I’m messing this up without even being there.”

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do  
You see, I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue  
Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean  
It’s yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen

“Anyway, I know I don’t have much to offer you. I can’t give you the big house or the nice things you deserve. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks, I know that, and maybe this is crazy, but you leaving so soon makes me want you to come back that much more.”

And you can tell everybody this is your song  
It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done  
I hope you don’t mind  
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words  
How wonderful life is, now you’re in the world

“What I wouldn’t give to wake up next to you every morning, to your smile, your eyes. I’m not a poet, which I’m sure is obvious by now; so I’m not going to waste your time trying to rhyme about my feelings or how beautiful I think you are. I want you to know that everything changed for me the moment you stepped into my life. For me, life has been about going from one hunt to the next. If I keep moving, nothing can catch me; but meeting you, spending time with you, it’s been about more than just the constant cycle of a hunter’s life. It’s been so much better. I wrote this letter hoping to tell you how I feel and hoping that maybe you feel the same way. Now that you’ve read it, I’m hoping against hope that you don’t think I’m an idiot for writing all of this down. Hell, I’m hoping against hope that you’ve decided to read this far. Even if you think I’m stupid for saying it (or writing it, I guess) I have to tell you that I love you, Y/N.

Hoping to see you soon,

Dean”

I hope you don’t mind  
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words  
How wonderful life is, now you’re in, you’re in, you’re in, you’re in the world

“I love you, Y/N.” You can’t take your eyes off the words scrawled across the paper in Dean’s handwriting. Your heart beats faster and you know you need to get back to the bunker as soon as possible. Paying your bill, you quickly head back to your car and race back in the direction you’d come from.

When you finally reach the bunker, hours later, you pull up to the entrance and shut off your car. You bang on the door, hoping that Dean is still there, that he’ll be the one to answer the door.

“You’re back!” Jack says with a grin as he answers the door. He lets you inside.

“Yeah, um, is Dean still here?” you ask nervously.

“I knew it,” Jack says smugly as his grin grows even wider, “He’s in his room, listening to music.”

“Thanks, Jack,” you say as you quickly head toward Dean’s room. When you reach the door, you knock loudly so that Dean can hopefully hear you even with his headphones on.

“Go away, Sam,” Dean says, “Y/N’s not coming back and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Dean, it’s me,” you shout through the door. Dean doesn’t answer, but you hear the creak of his bed springs before the door opens just a crack.

“Y/N?” he questions as if he can’t believe you’re standing right in front of him, “You came back.” He opens the door wider.

“Yeah, I guess I did,” you tell him, “I got your letter, and I have to say, for a man who ‘doesn’t do chick flick moments’ you’re really good at creating them.” Dean laughs softly, almost nervously.

“So you read it,” Dean surmises, “And?” He looks down toward the floor and runs his hand nervously through his hair as if preparing himself for the worst.

“What if I told you I love you?” you ask him. Dean quickly looks up and meets your gaze, searching your eyes for any hint of a lie.

“I’d think this is all just a dream and I’m going to wake up any second now,” Dean answers.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” you say, bringing a smile to Dean’s lips, “I love you and I’m an idiot for not having admitted it sooner.”

“No, I should have said it before you left instead of slipping a note into your pocket like a kid on the playground,” Dean says.

“Do you wanna go out with me? Check yes or no,” you say teasingly, “The letter didn’t have any boxes to check, so I guess this will have to be my answer.”

Closing the distance between the two of you, you drape your arms over his shoulders and press your lips to his. Dean’s arms snake around your waist and he pulls you in close as he deepens the kiss.

“I love you, Y/N,” Dean says when you finally pull away for air. He rests his forehead against yours, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. “Does this mean you’ll stay here, with us?” You can hear the hopefulness in his voice.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise before pulling him in for another kiss.


End file.
